


Twilight: Rebirth

by shyennemacdonald



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst and Humor, Canon-Typical Behavior, F/M, Family Issues, Mild Sexual Content, Twilight Renaissance, Vampires, Werewolves, Witch Bella Swan, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22012087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyennemacdonald/pseuds/shyennemacdonald
Summary: After Bella Swan's mother is violently murdered, Bella is forced to move to Forks, Washington. While there Bella learns that everything is not as it appears to be. As she falls in love with the strange boy from school, Bella learns more about her mothers murder, herself and Edward.
Relationships: Edward Cullen/Bella Swan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	Twilight: Rebirth

I was taken to the airport by taxi. Preferably I would’ve be alone, but instead a severe and aging woman sat beside me. Periodically she would look my way, giving me a once over before lingering on my face. If I turned my head to catch her, she would only give a small, apologetic smile before turning back down to the phone in her hands. We didn’t speak, which was fine with me, but I did eavesdrop on her a few of her calls. She was a social worker, so the conversations were merely more than scheduling appointments with other families. She had been assigned to my “case” the day after my mother died. Although she assured my father, Charlie, that she was only accompanying me to the airport.

My mother, Renee. Tears pricked my eyes, if I went down this path, I was certain to cry. Then I would have to talk to the woman beside me. I think she had said her name was Kathy. Instead I went through our schedule in my head, for the millionth time since we got into the car. 

It was only an hour drive from my now empty and cold childhood home. Charlie had left yesterday with a moving truck full of anything I could fit into it. My bed and dressers, bookshelves and of course the accompanying books. my mother’s paintings, a few lamps that she had sworn were hand-me-downs’. A beautiful, pale lavender chaise she had loved to lounge on. Charlie had blanched when I insisted it go with me, certainly there was no room in that tiny house for something so feminine and indulgent. 

In the trunk of the cab was my sole suitcase, small enough to be my carry on. It was packed with what little winter clothes I had. The rest of my clothes, all suited for the beautiful and sunny weather Phoenix always provided, would be of little use to me now. 

Besides, after the vultures picked over everything at the estate sale, I had all the money I needed to buy more clothes, should I be so inclined. I sighed, and the woman beside me looked over again. I mirrored her small smile and turned to look out the window. I might as well soak up all the Sun while I could.

The last time I had been in Forks, thirteen years ago, it seemed huge. The two bedroomed house, the same one Charlie lived in now, was a mansion and the constant onslaught of rain and fog was as charming as a fairy-tale. Now the small town was to become my tiny and inescapable prison. 

The social worker, apparently gunning for employee of the month, stayed with me at the airport. She carried my small suitcase for me and even bought us a snack to split after I’d called Charlie to tell him my flight had been delayed. Poor weather in Seattle, shocking. As we waited, she told me about my school, originally named Forks High School. 

‘The principal and teachers have been informed of your situation,’ she informed me somberly. ‘But on your first day you’ll need to go in early to get your paperwork.’ 

She had helped Charlie enroll me in classes but had convinced him to take me out of advanced placement. ‘When you adjust to your new routine and get settled you can speak with Principal Weber about moving you back to AP.’ 

Truthfully, I didn’t care. The next two years that stretched before me were a cruel and unfair punishment. What happened during this sentence was pointless to me. 

‘And don’t forget,’ she said as we walked to my gate. ‘Mr. Swan is picking you up in Seattle now instead of you taking the red-eye.’ 

I bit down the urge to remind her that I had been the one to arrange this plan with Charlie. She had been kind, so the least I could do is behave was with civility. But all I could manage was a quiet and pathetic thanks. 

‘Isabella,’ she said, bringing me in for a shocking hug. ‘I know everything seems hopeless, but it will get better.’

I awkwardly patted her back until I was released and let a small and sincere smile come to my face. ‘Really,’ I spoke with more conviction this time. ‘Thank you for helping me.’

‘Of course,’ she looked down at her phone and back at me. ‘Now hurry. I’ll be calling you in a few days to see how you settled.’

I prayed that she wouldn’t.

As the plane took off, I couldn’t stop the tears from coming. In the rueful aisle seat, I could do little to hide my shame from the other passengers. I felt the terrible lump in my throat hreaten to break into a sob.

‘Keep it together, Swan,’ I murmured to myself, furiously scrubbing away the tears.

When the seatbelt light turned off, I rose shakily from my seat and stumbled to the washroom. There I broke down and wept until I had nothing left in me. I cried for my mother and the injustice of her death. I cried for Phil, who was far too young to be a widower. But most of all, I cried for myself. I was full of self-pity and misery over the dark cloud that, as it seemed to me, was encroaching on the rest of my life. 

I met Charlie four hours later in the Seattle airport. He stood out among all the others at the arrival gate, exhausted and sad. I approached him slowly, taking in his dishevelled appearance. I had done the math on the plane, even without stopping for rest, Charlies drive from Phoenix would have taken a little over a day. Then he had to unload the moving truck and drive the three hours—give or take, depending on traffic—to Seattle.

But still he smiled warmly when I finally stood in front of him. He brought me in for a hug and took my bag. 

‘How was the flight?’ 

‘I wouldn’t know,’ I shrugged, following him through the crowds. ‘I slept the whole way.’ A half truth. Once I had returned to my seat, the attendant had brought me a tea. After that, I had finally passed out. 

We chatted a little, debated whether it would be better to get food now or wait, until we decided that we’d stop in Port Angeles for something quick. Neither of us had the energy, or desire, to commit to a conversation that sitting down in a proper restaurant would require. 

The car ride, which of course occurred in the Forks Chief of Police cruiser, was slow and quiet. What I loved about Charlie was that he somehow always knew when silence was needed. He never tried to force on vain small talk, and neither was he the sort to crank the radio. He sat comfortably in his own thoughts and gave me my space to do the same. 

But my thoughts weren’t a place I wanted to linger. So, I had been the one to dee-jay our expedition. I flipped from station to station, avoiding commercials as best I could, until I must have annoyed Charlie because he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. 

‘I got one of the guys to help me figure out Bluetooth,’ he said proudly. Nodding for me to look through the music. ‘The stuff may be a bit too aged for your taste, but its good.’ 

He smiled, crinkling his eyes, when he referred to his music as aged. It must be easy to forget how old you are, I thought bitterly, when you never really tried to see your near-adult daughter. 

It was all pretty old music, well, old for me. But it wasn’t dissimilar to what Renee liked. 

‘This is a good one,’ I said, finally picking a song.

Charlie looked over at me in surprise. ‘You like Trooper?’ he asked.

I shrugged. ‘Not really, I just know this song. Mom played it a lot.’ 

He made a strange face and looked back at the road. ‘We played this at our wedding,’ he explained. 

I remember the day when Renee had left Charlie. I had only been three, but I could still see it, clear as day. They had been fighting, about money. There was never enough of it and I had been a very taxing child. She had told me, when I was older, that she was worried I wasn’t developing properly. It hadn’t occurred to her that I would be quiet like my father, she had expected me to be just like her. 

Scared that I was a disturbed child, Renee had wanted me to go see a psychiatrist, but Charlie refused. There was no money for it, and that was all Renee had to hear. She packed herself and me up and left. But it wasn’t just about the money, none of it was what my mother had wanted in life. 

She had told me that she and Charlie married too young, too soon. She had loved him, but neither were ready to be married. Add a child to that and it’s a recipe for a quick divorce. 

It had taken us a while to settle in Phoenix, but Renee had always wanted to be in the sun. She hated how dark and grey the Peninsula was and needed to be somewhere with constant heat. Thus, we found our way to Arizona. He had insisted I come back to Forks for the summers, but I refused to leave my mother’s side. So, he would make his way up every so often. The visits were fewer and fewer the older I got, until somehow two years had passed since I had seen him last. 

‘This place okay?’ he pulled into the parking lot of a fast-food chain that still hadn’t made its way to Arizona. I looked at him skeptically.

‘If I want cholera, sure.’ He surprised me by letting out an easy laugh. Mom would have just tutted for judging before trying. Her gravest rule.

‘It’s better than it looks, Bells, trust me.’ I made a show of getting out of the car and following him. 

As shitty, greasy food goes, he wasn’t wrong. It had done the trick, and surprisingly didn’t leave me running for the bathroom. When we were back in the car, a mere twenty minutes later, we set ourselves back onto the road. 

‘We’ll be there in about an hour,’ he said. The sun, what little there was, was beginning to set. I would be able to feign exhaustion and go straight to my room. I knew the moment we entered Forks I would be battling the tears, and I didn’t need Charlie to see me cry. 

‘Are you still in the same house?’ I realized I knew very little about this new life I was entering. 

‘Same one. So,’ he started. ‘You gave Renee’s car to Phil?’

Why did he care? ‘Well, he needed it more than me.’ 

Charlie nodded. He didn’t take his eyes off the road, by his face you would assume we were driving in horrible conditions, but the roads were clear. 

‘That was good of you,’ he said quickly. ‘Renee, she had told me that you were saving up for your own car. Before, you know.’

I nodded. I still was, I planned on going to a dealership in a couple of days, once I was settled. 

‘I know this is a hard time for you Bells,’ that was doubtful. His mother hadn’t died until he was thirty. ‘I didn’t want you to have to worry about how you’d get around. So, I bought you a truck.’

I stared at him in silence. ‘Charlie, you really didn’t have to do that.’

‘I know,’ he scowled at me. ‘I wanted to. It’s not new or anything.’ He amended, as if that made a difference. 

‘It’s a free truck,’ I said. ‘It could be made from duct-tape and wood and it would still be amazing.’

This made his face red. I smiled with my teeth, hopefully showing how happy he’d made me. ‘Seriously Dad, thanks. That’s awesome.’

‘You’ll have to thank Billy too,’ he looked over at me curiously. ‘Do you remember him?’

‘I’ve seen him in pictures,’ Billy, Charlie and Renee had all been friends in high school.

‘Well, he’s in a wheelchair now, so he doesn’t have too much use for the thing.’ 

The Thing, it had a certain charm. ‘But it runs great,’ he continued.

‘Jake and I. Jacob, his youngest, you probably don’t remember him,’ I didn’t. ‘Cleaned it up, but I don’t know how good of a job we did.’

I thanked him again and we talked more about it. He would have to teach me how to drive shift, but that shouldn’t be a problem.

‘I’m a quick learner,’ I promised him, worried that he might’ve been regretting the gift. 

‘I know,’ he chuckled. ‘I’ll teach you tomorrow.’ 

‘Am I not starting school tomorrow?’ he shook his head.

‘Karen and I thought it would be best for you to start Monday, give you a chance to get your bearings.’ 

My stomach dropped; did I have a step-mom I didn’t know about? Is that why he looked so nervous? 

‘Karen?’ He looked over at me, clearly confused.

‘The social worker, Bells,’ the one I had just spent an entire week with.

‘I thought her name was Kathy,’ I confessed, my face flushing with embarrassment. 

‘You didn’t call her that, did you?’ He asked, mirroring my abject horror.

‘God, I hope not,’ I winced. We both laughed at the slight and fell into a comfortable silence.

As we drove through Forks, I could feel the claustrophobia setting in. The moon, which hung low tonight, forced the slick pavement and sidewalk to shine silver. Pedestrians were all dressed the same in soaked rain jackets and rubber boots, hoping along in a rushed walk. But more than a few times I saw people pass each other, pause and turn to have a quick chat. I shuddered at the thought that I could be one of those unfortunate people. Forced to stop and talk to some acquittance I barely knew.

‘There’s your school,’ Charlie pointed out my window. 

It looked nothing like old school. In Phoenix, Renee had poured most of our money into the high school I had attended. It was an advanced placement school that specialized in maths and sciences, it meant to give me the edge when I began applying to university. 

There were no walls at Arizona Day, partly metaphor partly truth. There were literally no walls, instead the building was made of glass. The sun poured in constantly, supposedly “opening our minds” my teacher Ms. Toski would always say whenever someone complained about the heat. Which really could be just terrible during the dry seasons.

We all had laptops given to us and had done the majority of our studying on tablets. Undoubtedly this was entirely different from what ever aged technology resided in Forks High. 

‘It looks very stately,’ I commented. It was made entirely of brown brick, barely any windows in sight. I’m sure on Monday the light would prove to be horrifying fluorescents that gave everyone hazy headaches. 

‘Karen was in touch with the student counsellor, you’re going to meet with them first thing on Monday. They’ll show you around and speak with you about your classes,’ he said. ‘If you get too bored in the classes let the them know, there may be this programme you can be enrolled in.’

‘Okay,’ I agreed, although the idea of coasting the rest of high school was very tempting.

‘Alright,’ Charlie huffed, stopping the cruiser along the curb. I looked out his window at the house we had parked outside of. 

Size wise, it appeared the same as the one my mother, Phil and I had lived in. However, the appearances were polar opposites. Renee had done her best to make our home look welcoming. Every weekend she toiled in the garden, though very rarely did things grow. She just could never seem to fathom how much water flowers needed. But she still kept everything well-manicured. Once, on a whim, she had painted our house a light blue, with copper-brown doors and windows. It had looked hideous, but she every few years she would do something different. The last time she had painted it a light and pale pink. Which how, I imagined, unless there was someone as whimsical as her to change it, it would stay.

Charlie had let his lawn over-grow. But to his credit, I doubt there were many sunny days where he could mow the lawn. The house, I imagine, was once a bright and clean white. But now it was a dull and dirty grey, the painted panels were chipped with some chunks missing entirely. 

The roof, again I imagine it was once a vibrant colour. Was a dark, nearly black, green. There was nothing quaint or charming, which was what I secretly wished for, about it. It looked rundown and shabby. It was embarrassing. 

‘It looks good!’ I said, maybe too enthusiastically, ignoring the tears that pricked my eyes. 

He looked back at the house with knitted brows. ‘It is pretty rundown,’ he said apologetically.

‘To be honest I don’t really stick around on weekends,’ he continued, getting out of the car. I followed him to the trunk and thanked him when he grabbed my bag. ‘Usually I’m fishing or hunting.’

I followed him up the cracked stone steps. On the side of them, leading back to the walkway was a newer, but still aged, wooden ramp. ‘But I’ll be around now,’ he added quickly. 

‘You don’t have to do that,’ I said, silently begging. 

‘I’m not just ditching you here, Bells,’ he unlocked the door and waited for me to go in. ‘Besides I’ve got to stop hanging around Henry Clearwater.’ 

I looked up at him questioningly while I kicked off my shoes. ‘Why?’

‘He’s always bitching about his wife, Sue. I don’t know why though, she’s good woman.’ He shrugged off his jacket and slung it over a chair, so I did the same and wondered why a grown man didn’t have a coat hanger.

‘Well this is the kitchen,’ he said lamely, he motioned me to follow him, so I did. The layout felt familiar, but more the way every convenience store feels the same. ‘That there’s the laundry room/storage kind of room.’ 

My god, I thought with creeping panic, he lives like a twenty-year old.

‘This is the living room,’ we had passed back through the kitchen and into said living room. Which was only one large television that hung from the wall and a leather couch. And a computer in the corner, a very old computer. 

‘Good thing there’s a spot for my book cases,’ I said, they had been flattened against the wall in the walkway. But I had no idea where he had put said books. My panic grew.

‘Yeah, your mom had gotten all the artwork and stuff,’ he said, as if there hadn’t been a thirteen-year gap between these events. ‘But I put those paintings you brought over here.’

He gestured to the small stack leaning against the wall beside the computer. I should be thankful he was beings so open about sharing his space with me, but I couldn’t get over the bareness of the house. It was as if he barely existed here. This wasn’t a home, just a place for his things. 

I followed him up the old wooden steps, each one creaked horribly so it was nice to know right off the bat that sneaking out the door would never be an option. 

‘Your room,’ he pointed to the open door. He let me go first and lingered behind me.

I was genuinely delighted to see that my room was more than a reasonable size. The chaise, which thankfully appeared to have survived the move, was tucked perfectly under the furthest window. By it was a large floor length mirror Charlie must have already had, it was a light oak with a drawer attached at the bottom. Flushed against the wall was my dresser, which matched the bookshelves downstairs. A black pine that, in Phoenix offset the bright everything. But here, in my dim and dark room, it only added to the very dark ambiance. 

My bed, which my mother had chosen, was a beautiful white wrought iron. Thankfully Charlie had only put the box, which had all my linens, on my bed and not try to make it. I thought of the personal massager, which Renee had given to me, partly as a joke and partly as a mortifying feminist statement in front of Phil and his family, as my sixteenth birthday present back in May. It was still in its packaging, sealed. But I had packed it up anyways with the linens, which felt appropriate. 

The walls were painted bright pink and white that was faded horribly. I realized, in that moment, that obviously this had been my room before Renee, and I had left. Had it remained empty and pink this whole time? 

The thought that he would have remained in this house, refusing to change it and refusing to care for it, rotting in this carcass of his failed marriage and family broke my heart. I could feel a fresh onslaught of tears, but this time for Charlie. 

‘Obviously we’ll paint it,’ Charlie said hastily when he saw my tears. 

‘I was going to, but I didn’t want to,’ he gestured to me broadly. ‘You know, assume anything.’

I quickly fixed my face, ‘that’ll be great,’ I thought for a moment. ‘I think a light blue would be nice.’ 

He agreed and ushered me back into the hallway. ‘That’s the bathroom, a decent size.’ I thanked every God that had ever existed that it was clean. Actually, it was immaculate, our bathroom back home was never this clean.

He showed me his room, which again was perfectly made up and clean. His furniture was also more modern and lived in then the living room and kitchen. He had pictures of myself, his deceased parents, and a few of the same dog in different shots. Through his room was a full bathroom that was a little more cluttered than what I now deemed my bathroom, but just as clean. A knock on the door ended our tour and we went back downstairs.

‘Billy,’ Charlie greeted the wheelchaired man and looked up at the boy behind him as we walked down the stairs. They had let themselves in. ‘Jacob, you remember my daughter Isabella.’

‘Hello Isabella,’ Billy smiled up at me, in his lap was a couple of boxes of mine simply labelled books, were stacked. ‘This had been left in the moving truck.’ 

He handed them off to Charlie. The boy behind him stepped forward and stuck out his hand for me to shake.

‘It’s actually just Jake,’ he said, correcting Charlie when I shook his hand.

‘And it’s actually just Bella,’ I laughed. 

‘So, you want to see your truck?’ He asked excitedly an I turned back to Charlie, grinning. 

‘Have at ‘er,’ Charlie encouraged, and Jacob and I hurried out the house, with he and Billy trailing behind.

‘Dad!’ I exclaimed on the sight of The Thing. ‘Dad, it’s amazing!’

I hurried Jacob down the steps, and we hoped into the truck, with him in the passenger and me in the driver’s seat. It smelt like stale cigarettes and something else that reminded me of mint. Instead of two separate seats there was just a single long one, with a moveable cab in the middle. The seat and steering wheel were covered in a worn-down brown leather. There were some cracks in the headrest and on the ten and two, but otherwise the leather was still holding up well.

The dashboard and radio aged the truck severely. There was no way to connect to an aux cord let alone Bluetooth. 

‘I know,’ Jacob said solemnly. ‘But the radio isn’t too bad. I like 96.7.’ 

I turned on the truck, and as it rumbled to life Jacob toyed with the radio, then finally turning it up. 

‘Was this your truck?’ I asked, I pressed back into the seat, wishing I could adjust it. 

He leaned in close, ‘technically I’m not allowed to have a truck yet,’ he said conspiratorially throwing a look at Charlie. 

‘I see,’ I winked at him, playing along. ‘Mums the word.’

He laughed and leaned back. ‘But yeah, it’s okay though because my dad said now, I can start working on building a car.’

I looked back at him, impressed. ‘You can build cars?’

‘It’s not a big deal,’ he smiled shyly, looking out the window. ‘But if you ever need help with the truck you can just call me.’

‘I will,’ I promised, the only thing I really knew about cars is what Phil had taught me. And that education was very limited. I rolled down the window and called out to Billy.

‘This is perfect Billy, thank you!’ I turned off the truck and got out to properly thank both him and my dad.

‘It’s not a problem, Bella,’ Billy said. ‘We’re all happy to have you back home. Actually, Charlie couldn’t shut up about it.’ 

I looked over at my dad, surprised. He had turned away to assess the truck. ‘So, thanks for helping me unload everything,’ he said to Billy, changing the subject. 

‘Jacob, why don’t you help your dad into the truck, and I’ll drive you back home,’ he turned back to me before going to help Jacob and Billy. ‘Give you a chance to catch your breath.’ 

As Charlie hoped into the truck, I waved goodbye and retreated back into the house. The brief moments I had been in the wet mist was enough to make my hair cling to my skin. I happily ignored the clutter in the living room and climbed the stairs. Without Charlie or music to distract me my mood quickly became heavy and dark. I found my suitcase, sitting on top of my dresser, and pulled out my makeup and toiletries bag. 

Under the hot water in the shower, all the pain I had kept neatly pushed down quickly overcame me. I sobbed freely and loudly, knowing no one could hear me. Eventually, when the water became too cold to stand, I stumbled out and realized I had no idea where the towels were. 

A new wave of anguish overcame me, and I crumbled to the floor, but only for a moment before jumping up my body shocked by how icy the floor was. As I, more or less flailed up from the floor I slipped and fell back onto my back. I my body had turned in the processes, most likely to avoid my head from getting hurt, and I ended up crashing onto my elbow and shoulder. 

I laid there crying for barely a minute before I couldn’t help but laugh at the pathetic misery my life had become. Again, I stumbled up from the floor but this time I was moved more slowly and somewhat shakily.

Once centered I opened the door and called out, just in case Billy lived closer than I realized. When no one answered I bolted across the short hallway and into my room. I shut the door and there were the towels. They were stacked atop a little log stool, it seemed a little cruel for a joke to hide them like that, I thought.

Shivering now, I dried off and quickly found my pajamas in the box that also held my hair brush and slippers. While Charlie was gone, I went back down downstairs and snooped through the kitchen. I was relieved to find cutlery and plates, although, really only enough settings for three people. Not that I got the impression that Charlie hosted a lot of guests. His coffee pot was one of the new single serve ones. I realized I had always pictured Charlie as the dad I had left when I was three, his life never really changing. At least the modern technology was proof that this wasn’t entirely true.

I riffled through the other cupboards and found snacks. Lots of chips, and a few packs of chocolate chip cookies. I opened his fridge and was neither surprised nor disappointed. There was hardly any food, besides some pickles and chees. But there was a decent amount of beer. Renee had always encouraged me to have wine at dinner, she said it was refined. I wonder if Charlie held the same beliefs.

Bored by the kitchen I wandered to the laundry/storage room. The storage wasn’t much of anything, a winter shovel and salt. Rake and lawn mower and some paint. That obviously had never been used. A door in the laundry room led back outside. I opened it and looked out into the forest. I listened to the birds and rain that tapped endlessly on the roof. I took in a deep breath and let the smell of the earth and water fill my lungs. There were some silver linings, but I bet the rain would get old very quickly. I shut it the door and turned to assess the laundry machines. 

They too were fairly modern. I wondered what exactly, besides technology, Charlie spent his money on. Because clearly, he didn’t spend it on keeping the house up, or stocking the fridge. And he couldn’t have been spending it all on going out for food and fishing and hunting. 

I found my way back to the living room and scrutinized it more than I had before with Charlie. The computer obviously wasn’t used, and I wondered why he kept it around. I sat down on the couch; it was incredibly comfortable. It reclined as well, and with the seat laid back I stretched out curled into a little ball. I tried to remember anything about living here, but all I could manage were ones of my parents fighting. That I didn’t want to think of, at all. 

I laid there for longer than I had meant to. I drifted in and out but never really falling asleep, every time before I could, I would remember where I was, and a new wave of grief would sweep over me. It was in this lull that Charlie must have come home, he called out my name coming into the living room before I even heard him.

I quickly got up, a little disoriented and greeted him. 

‘Sorry, I didn’t realize you were asleep,’ he held out a big pizza box. ‘But I picked up a pizza, just in case you were hungry. I don’t have much food in the house.’ 

I followed him back into the kitchen and grabbed us plates. I was actually hungry, despite the fact that we had eaten only a couple of hours ago. 

‘I got us half pepperoni, half black olives and bacon.’

‘I love black olives and bacon,’ I said grabbing a couple of slices. 

‘Really?’ he beamed down at me. 

‘Really,’ I nodded and went back into the living room. Charlie followed, bringing two cans of coke with him. We ate in relative silence while Charlie flipped through the channels before stopping on the history channel. 

And that’s how the rest of the week passed for us. Quietly adjusting and existing beside each other. Charlie helped me paint my room and while that dried, he would teach me how to drive the truck, until soon enough it was Monday and I started school again.


End file.
